


Hurricane

by falsebravado



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes Remembers, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsebravado/pseuds/falsebravado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet based on a Tumblr prompt from Ms. Aether:<br/>"Bucky is starting to remember things but still can't figure out why he wants Steve so bad."<br/>---<br/>Some answers are only derived in close quarters...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msaether](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msaether/gifts).



**Hurricane** \- partially inspired by [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQJpSUEpuRg)]

_No matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget_   
_No matter how many lives that I live, I will never regret_   
_There is a fire inside of this heart_   
_And a riot about to explode into flames_

—

_Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes._

The words from the exhibit were seared into his mind.  The portrait that accompanied them haunted him from behind his own eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.  Every time he caught his reflection, it was there, ghosted over his true image.  A specter that lived only to torture him.

His last mission had ended like an earthquake - the world splitting apart beneath him.  And he was still suffering the aftershocks of shattered images and impossible memories.

_"Who the hell is Bucky?"_

He was determined to find out.

—-

He watches the building through the scope of a sniper rifle.  It isn’t loaded.  He keeps telling himself it’s because Rogers has useful information and he doesn’t want there to be any… accidents.  The truth is- the truth is more complicated than that.  The thought of loading a round into the gun and pointing it through the apartment window makes him physically nauseous.  

So he lays prone on the rooftop of the building across the street and watches the empty unit.  For hours.  But not once does his attention falter.  There is a lot to look at.  A bookcase full of vinyl records.  A framed poster for _Casablanca_  on the wall.  A large leather armchair.  A box of Cornflakes.  Shoes.  Telephone.  Coca-Cola.  Sofa.  Bed.

Bed.

#

_Bed._

_Bucky falls to the mattress with a slight ‘umph’.  Steve climbs on after him, straddling his hips and holding himself up with arms outstretched on either side of Bucky’s head.  They grin at each other for a long moment.  Finally Steve ducks his head and kisses Bucky deeply, a gentle moan sliding out of his mouth -_

_#_

He breathes in sharply as the door to the apartment suddenly opens.  Lights turn on and the space is illuminated.  Rogers enters and heaves the shield off of his back, resting it against the wall near the door.  He takes off his jacket and hangs it in the hall closet.  Then he walks into the kitchen and takes a water bottle out of the fridge, draining half of it in one breath.  

Rogers crosses behind a wall and he loses sight of him, momentarily, before he re-appears on the other side.  He walks into the bathroom and turns on the tap for the shower; a heavy stream of water starts to steam behind the curtain.  He sets the water bottle on the edge of the sink and tests the shower temperature.  Then Rogers pulls off his shirt and closes the bathroom door, cutting off the sight-line.

#

_SLAM!_

_"What the hell was that?" Bucky yells as soon as the door latches closed._

_"That was called doing my job!" Steve responds, ripping off his helmet._

_"If I hadn’t made that shot, you would’ve been killed!  You’re not invincible you know!"_

_"Then I guess it’s a good thing I knew you’d make that shot!"  
_

_The two men stand facing each other, their chests heaving from the effort of yelling at one another.  The air between them is vibrating with rage and frustration.  The room is eerily quiet._

_Bucky moves first, stepping forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands.  They crash into each other - lips, teeth, tongues - and the anger fizzles into nothingness.  Hot tears spill down Bucky’s cheeks, but neither man acknowledges them._

_#_

He startles himself back into focus and wipes at his face.  His fingertips come back damp but he can’t understand why.  Across the street, the door to the bathroom opens and Rogers steps out into the hallway, dripping.  He has a towel wrapped around his waist but is otherwise bare, unprotected.  

On the rooftop, he lowers the gun and pushes himself into a crouched position.  He starts disassembling the rifle and packing it back away in its case.  Then, without a second thought, he climbs down the fire escape and crosses the street to Rogers’ apartment.

—-

_BAM.  BAM.  BAM._

Three loud knocks echo through Steve’s apartment late at night.  He gets up from the sofa where he was reading and secures his towel.  He’s not exactly dressed to answer the door, but there isn’t really time to change.  He quietly picks up his shield as he walks through the hall, absently on the defensive.  He peers through the peephole and is entirely unprepared for who is waiting on the other side of the door.

Bucky.

#

_"Bucky."_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Are you sure about this?"_

_"More sure than I’ve ever been about anything else in my life.  You?"_

_Steve laughs.  ”Yeah, I’m sure.  Believe me.”_

_"So get on with it then," Bucky says.  "I’m ready."_

_"Do I just… Should I-  I mean, usually it’s you who… I don’t want to hurt-"_

_Bucky shakes his head and takes Steve’s hips in his hands, pulling him tight against his body so that he pushes inside.  They both gasp and Bucky tenses slightly.  After a moment, he exhales and reminds himself to relax.  Steve stares down at him, concerned._

_"I’m fine," he says, with a smile.  "Better than fine."_

_Steve reaches forward and rests a hand on Bucky’s chest.  ”What now?”_

_"Now it’s up to you, Captain," Bucky replies.  "You’re giving the orders."_

_Steve rolls his hips forward and presses inward.  ”Good.  Just the way I like it.”_

_#_

"B-Bucky," Steve finally manages to say.

The other man scowls, but doesn’t say anything.  He looks over his shoulder, nervous.

"Uh, come in.  Please.  I-  I wasn’t expecting you.  I’m not dressed, but uh-"

Bucky steps inside and lets Steve close the door behind him.  He eyes the shield suspiciously.

"Oh right."  Steve lets the shield fall back against the wall with a solid  _thunk_.  ”That wasn’t-  I didn’t think you were going to-  I mean, unless you _are_ here for that in which case…”

"No," Bucky replies, cutting him off.  "I’m not armed."

Steve seems to evaluate him for the first time, eyeing the grey t-shirt and navy hoodie.  He seems to visibly relax when he realizes they’re just street clothes.  He swallows and reasserts himself.

"I’ve been looking for you," Steve says.

"I know."

"You saved my life."

"It’s not the first time," Bucky replies automatically.  He seems startled by his own words.

"No," Steve says gently, "it’s not."

It’s quiet for a moment.  Neither Steve nor Bucky make eye contact with each other.

"You’re remembering things…" Steve says at last.

"It’s been confusing," Bucky replies.

Steve nods.  ”I know what that’s like.  If you want to talk, I-“

"I didn’t come here to talk."

"Then why did you come?"

Bucky looks up and they finally regard each other.  The concern on Steve’s face is obvious; the pain on Bucky’s even more so.  Suddenly, he’s hit by another memory.

# 

_"I had him on the ropes," Bucky says, looking down at the Hydra soldier’s body._

_"I know you did."_ _Steve smirks and turns away towards the door to the next train car._

_"GET DOWN!" he suddenly yells, pulling Bucky behind his shield as a blast ricochets off and rips open the side of the train.  Steve is knocked against the wall and Bucky scrambles for his shield, peeling off a few shots from his gun.  The plasma cannon fires again and makes contact with the shield for a second time, sending Bucky careening towards the metal scar in the side of the car._

_Steve gets to his feet and snatches up his shield, throwing it at the Hydra agent with all his strength.  It makes contact and sends the soldier flying backwards into the next car.  Steve rushes over to where Bucky is holding on for dear life, hanging precariously over the gaping canyon below._

_"Bucky!"  Steve starts to climb out over the open ground as the train speeds forward.  "Hang on!"_

_Bucky lets go briefly with one hand to try and reach for Steve, but it’s too far._

_"Grab my hand!" Steve calls to him.  A piece of the metal rail Bucky clings to pulls away from the damaged panel.  "No!"  A second later the rail gives out completely and detaches from the train._

_Then he’s falling, watching Steve disappear as the train continues down the track._

_#_

He shakes off the memory and sees Steve standing in front of him, one hand resting on his shoulder.  A show of concern.  His brow is furrowed, his blue eyes searching.

"Bucky?  Why did you come?"

He considers the question for a moment, but can’t think of what to say.  Instead, he puts one hand on the back of Steve’s head and pulls him into a kiss.  It’s stiff at first, awkward, but then it softens and suddenly Steve is kissing him back.  Hungry.  Wanting.

They stumble towards the living room as Steve works at the zipper on Bucky’s hoodie.  Steve nearly trips over a chair that’s pushed against the wall, but he rights himself just in time.  They navigate over to one of the couches and Steve peels off Bucky’s sweatshirt before they fall horizontal on to the cushions.

Bucky leans over Steve, supporting himself with his left arm.  It gleams in the low light, reflecting a lamp in the corner of the apartment.  Steve tilts his head to look at it and holds one hand just above the surface, questioning.

"May I?"

Bucky nods and Steve touches the cool metal.  He runs his hand down the length of it, over the scratches and dents from combat.

"Can you feel me?" Steve asks.

Bucky shakes his head.  ”Not… exactly.”

Steve looks up at him, his expression soft, but serious.

"It’s okay, Buck," he says.  "I feel you."

\---

Illustration by the incredible [Abitto](http://abitto.tumblr.com/), commissioned by [MsAether](http://msaether.tumblr.com).


	2. Chapter 2

Steve reaches up and pulls Bucky down into another kiss.  They spend a few long minutes like this, just remembering the taste of each other.  Steve eventually lets his hands wander up the back of Bucky's t-shirt and he feels taught muscles under his fingertips.  A crease of worry works itself into his brow.

"You're really tense," he says, breaking away.  "Where have you been sleeping?"

Bucky turns his face away and frowns.  "It's not important."

Steve flattens his hand against Bucky's back and sighs.  "Hey, it's okay.  I just wanted to make sure-"

Bucky pushes himself off of the couch, and subsequently, off of Steve.  "I said it's not important!" he growls.

"Whoa, wait!"  Steve lurches forward into a sitting position and gets off the couch in one smooth motion.  He almost loses his towel in the process, but manages to get a hand on it before it slips to the floor.  He tightens it back around his waist and rushes over to where Bucky is pacing by the windows.

"I'm sorry," Steve says.  He reaches out with one hand, cautious, but open.  "You're right, it's not important."

Bucky runs his hands through his hair, seemingly frustrated, but makes eye contact with Steve.  "I don't-  the anger... I can't always control it.  I don't...  I don't want it any more."

Steve nods and puts his hand on Bucky's good arm to reassure him.  To ground him.  His skin is warm to the touch, such a stark contrast to his opposite limb.

"Just tell me what you do want, Buck," Steve says, softly.  "I want to help."

He holds Steve's gaze for a moment before he replies.  His eyes are deep and searching.  "I know that I _know_ you," he says at last.  "But I want to feel it."  He pauses.  "I want to feel you."

"We can make that happen," Steve says.  He puts both hands on either side of Bucky's face and kisses him roughly.  He lets one hand slide around to the back of his head and he tangles his fingers into Bucky's unkempt hair, pulling gently. 

Bucky moans into his mouth and grabs Steve's shoulders, pushing him against one of the large windows.  The glass is cool against his hot skin and a faint silhouette of condensation forms around his body.  The city sparkles in the background but neither man pays a thought to who might be watching.

Steve reaches for the hem of Bucky's t-shirt and wrestles it off over his head.  Bucky's left arm gets caught and they have to take a minute to break apart and pull it off.  But the moment that the shirt hits the floor, Bucky is kissing Steve again, holding him against the glass.

Steve bites at Bucky's lower lip and is rewarded with a low growl.  He feels his cock stiffen in response.  He presses himself against Bucky to make his intentions clear.  He feels Bucky return the gesture, rolling his hips forward to press his pelvis against the towel.  Steve moves his mouth to Bucky's neck and kisses him from earlobe to collarbone.  Bucky has to put his good hand out against the glass to steady himself.

A moment later, Steve feels the sensation of cool metal travelling down the side of his body.  He lifts his head up from where he was biting gently at Bucky's ear to follow his movements towards his hips.  Bucky slides his thumb between the terry-cloth and Steve's skin and starts to pull the towel away from his body.  It gives way easily from the faint pressure and falls to the floor in a heap.  Steve feels a wave of self-consciousness creep up his body, but it evaporates when he sees the expression on Bucky's face.   _Recognition_.

"Buck?" Steve says.  "Do you remember something?"

A smile plays across Bucky's lips.  "Yeah," he says, putting his right hand on Steve's chest, over his heart.  "I remember what you feel like."

Before Steve can respond, Bucky sinks down to his knees and presses his lips to Steve's hip bone.  Steve leans back against the window again, caught off guard by the sudden and distinctly southern change of blood flow in his body.  Bucky rests his left hand on Steve's hip and palms his cock in his right.  He strokes slowly at first, letting Steve get accustomed to the way his hand feels wrapped around him.  

Steve reaches down and combs his fingers through Bucky's hair, pushing it away from his face.  Bucky looks up at him and the sight of him kneeling, cock in hand, makes Steve dizzy with pleasure.  Thankfully, Bucky looks away to refocus on other things and Steve lets his head fall back against the glass.  He thinks about nothing but the way Bucky feels and how he moves, the way he's kissing Steve's lower abdomen, the weight of his metal arm at his hip.  He's so lost in the euphoria that it takes him a moment to catch up to the fact that Bucky has pressed his tongue against the bottom of his cock and has taken him in his mouth.

"Jesus, Bucky," Steve huffs, coming back to himself.

Bucky hums in response, sending vibrations up the entire length of Steve's cock.  Steve claps his hand down on Bucky's shoulder and digs his fingertips into the metal.  It doesn't give like flesh, but Steve uses it to steady himself nonetheless.  Bucky moves in a lazy rhythm, his right hand firm, but gentle, following his mouth as he sucks Steve off.  His tongue circles the head of Steve's cock and every so often he lets his teeth graze the top of the shaft, which elicits the most incredible moan from Steve.

Bucky starts to increase his pace and grips a little tighter.  The fingers on his left hand press into Steve's hip to hold him still.  He hollows his cheeks and uses the pressure to coax Steve closer to the edge.  Bucky can hear Steve's breathing becoming more irregular as it hitches on every moan and whispered obscenity.  Steve clenches his fist and tries to hold off the inevitable pressure building behind his pelvis for as long as possible.  But Bucky is determined and it isn't long before Steve mumbles a faint warning.

"Buck..." he says, breathless, "I'm gonna-"

Bucky ignores him and flattens his tongue against Steve's cock, sucking intently.  Steve tenses, moans loudly, and spills into Bucky's mouth.  Bucky pulls away and reaches for the towel, trying as discreetly as possible to spit into it.

Steve laughs, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. 

"Now there's something I wish I could forget," Bucky says, looking up.  "Still tastes _horrible._ "

"Hey, I warned you," Steve replies, grinning.

Bucky reaches up and pulls Steve to the floor.  Bucky leans back, laying prone on the hardwood.  Steve lays next to him on his side, pressed against Bucky's body, propped up on one arm.

"Well then I should warn _you_ ," Bucky starts, turning his head to kiss Steve lightly on the lips, "payback's a bitch."

Bucky reaches down and unzips the fly on his jeans.  He looks at Steve and raises an eyebrow suggestively.  "It's been 70 years, so my expectations are pretty high," he quips.

Steve shakes his head, then moves to position himself at Bucky's waist.  "Guess that wit of yours is indelible," he replies.

Bucky rests his head against the floor and closes his eyes.  "Yeah," Bucky says.  "And so are you."

\---

Illustration by the amazing [StunnerStorm](http://stunnerstorm.tumblr.com/) (Hermione), commissioned by [MsAether](http://msaether.tumblr.com).


End file.
